Denise Bryant - Mother and Daughter

While we were sitting around drinking and just leisurely feeling each other, the man whose apartment we were at brought out a set of photographs for us to look at. Actually, there were several groups of pictures, each in a separate envelope. The first set were of the two girls and a man doing just about everything. Another group contained two girls together, there were some of twin sisters and their pet collie, and another of a girl using a vibrator and various kinds of dildoes on herself.

“There here are the greatest,” the man announced with pride, spreading the set out in front of everyone. “I took these myself when I was stationed over in Germany after the war. See? This gal here is the mother and this is her teenage daughter. For a carton of cigarettes, I got them while the other watched. The mother helped me get it all the way…”

I excused myself and went to the bathroom and threw up, refusing to recognize the reason why. Kathy was due to arrive the following Monday for her summer vacation.

I noticed a difference in Kathy the moment she arrived. But I was at a loss to figure out exactly what it was. I thought it might be a kind of annoyance at finding Bob still with me, but her attitude toward him seemed closer and warmer than before.

My old fears were renewed and amplified because of this new closeness, in fact. Instead of acting more mature around Bob, Kathy seemed to enjoy playing the role of “little girl lost,” talking baby-talk to him, cuddling in his lap and throwing her arms around him. Whenever she needed advice or an answer to a question, she inevitably went to him.

It also became quite obvious that on those nights when Kathy would sit on his lap and bounce around, Bob was much more in a mood to make love with me. When I could stand it no longer, when the suspense and worry had built up in me until I could keep quiet no longer, I burst out at Bob one evening just before he was about to start intercourse with me.

“What do you and Kathy do when I'm out teaching at the Institute in the afternoon?” I blurted, turning my pelvis away from him. “She gets you so excited right in front of me at nights… what do you do when you're alone with her? What?”

“Oh, Lord. I suppose it had to come sooner or later,” he sighed resignedly, rolling over beside me and reaching for a cigarette. “You must won't let it lie, will you, Denise… this idea that I am having sex with your daughter? What a… a corrupt and evil mind you have. Usually, I am not even here in the afternoon. When I leave you at the Institute, I go on some business calls, check in with my confidential contact. Only once a week, do I ever come back here. And let's see… last Monday, I played tennis with Kathy at the town courts. Would you like to check with the groundskeeper there?”

“I want to know what your relation is with my daughter?” I screamed, getting a cigarette for myself and lighting it. “Have you ever screwed my daughter?”

“Denise,” he stated calmly, looking at me as if I were a child or a patient or something. “Every time Kathy gets in one of her little moods and squirms in my lap… who is it I come in here and have intercourse with? It's you, Denise, not her!”

“You… you admit it!” I jumped at him, wagging my finger like an old shrew. “You admit that she gets you aroused… sexed up, sitting in your lap and kissing you and going on with all that baby talk trash!”

“My dear, Denise, I admit it most readily,” Bob announced, gesturing with a wide swing of his arms. “Be logical. Kathy is a fully developed young woman in a physical sense. She is 17 years old. She measures 36-23-36 in all the right places. She is a sexually desirable human being! Any normal male would be excited if she was sitting in his lap in a pair of those nothing pajamas and wiggling her delightfully configurated buttocks around. For an adult male, this is a normal reaction.”

“And you allow it! You let her get you all excited and work yourselves up into a heat of lust!”

“Oh, Denise… Denise, you have a perverted mind,” he began to lecture me again. “It is a normal reaction for me to become aroused. But to Kathy, I am an authoritarian father image. To her, this is a thing of familial affection. Evidently, her own father lacks something. She finds it impossible to communicate with him and gain a proper rapport.”

“You… you'd love to screw her… wouldn't you? I asked him outright, trying to stare back at him with the same degree of searching that his eyes imparted to me. “You'd dearly love to have your hands all over those breasts… her naked body beneath you. Oh, Bob, how can you think I'm such a fool. You and your logic. You want her in bed, Bob. Admit it!”

“I admit it,” he said immediately, turning me over on my back again and entering me as he continued to talk. “She is a very desirable female and I would thoroughly enjoy breaking her in to the arts of sexual love. This is true, Denise. It is also true that I achieve erection while she moves about on my lap. I try to conceal my excitement from her and she probably doesn't even notice it. Yes, Denise, I would really enjoy sex with Kathy. But… I have enough good sense about me not to dwell on the idea and become morbid about it. The trouble with you is, that you must realize Kathy is not a little girl anymore in physical build…”

I felt so strange and dirty talking about Kathy in this way at the very moment Bob was making love to me. It seemed that when he spoke of her body or that she was sexually attractive, I could actually feel his penis get harder, his thrust more forceful. It was terribly upsetting, and I had a great deal of difficulty in coming.

THE following Monday, my car was in the shop, so I went downtown that morning to do some shopping on the bus, and told Bob and Kathy that I would go directly from there to the Institute. I had actually chosen that day to have the car worked on because there was no school at the Institute. It was closed for some carpentry work that had to be done on the stage. But Bob and Kathy were not aware of that.

At two o'clock, I got off the bus a block away from the house, walking down the alleyway and slipping in the back door. I heard nothing from the kitchen. The house seemed unusually quiet and still. The whole downstairs was vacant, no sign of anything, no sound.

And then I heard Kathy's voice!

“… crazy darling… oh, crazy darling…”

It came from her room, accompanied by the muffled and unintelligible words of a man. My first impulse was to dash right up to her bedroom and fling open the door! I wanted to claw at Bob with my bare hands, call him every kind of rotten and cheating liar I could think of!

But I paused. I grabbed hold of the banister by the stairway and squeezed it with all my might. I tried to think of what to do, what a rational person would do. Yes! They were in Kathy's bedroom! The spy-scopes Bob had put in three summers before were still in the hall closet! I would see for myself. I would see with my own eyes, and then all of Bob Morgan's powerful brainwashing would not convince me that it was only my imagination. I would see it for myself!

I gained amazing control and crept up the stairs stealthily in my stocking feet. I opened the closet door very slowly, anticipating the slightest squeek and stopping short, pushing up or pulling down to correct it. Parting the hanging clothes very quietly, I was soon up against the back wall of the closet, felling along in front of me for the spy-scopes.

I When I found the one to the right, I stopped dead in my movements. I realized that I was shaking all over. I had been so intent on what I was doing, that I had not listened to the words that were occasionally audible to me.